THERE WAS NO POSSIBILITY OF TAKING A WALK THAT DAY. Pts. 1-5

(Title borrowed from the first line of the novel, "Jane Eyre.")

I was watching an episode of “Highway to Heaven,” with Michael Landon and Victor French, on Netflex recently. And as I have realized, upon my exposure to the reruns of the program, that the late great producer/director/actor tended to use some of the cast from “Little House on the Prairie” on his subsequent series.

This particular program related to baseball, and the angel character, (Landon) and human character (French) had been assigned to come along side an aging ex-Negro league player; portrayed by Moses Gunn. By now, he was 70 and sold concessionary goods in the stadium entranceway. However, by some heavenly stroke of luck, he was chosen by the “Toro’s” to bring the team back from a losing season.

While it could only happen on primetime television, I admit, it was a terrific yarn and, as you might expect, Moses won the day, and found himself pitching 100 mph balls, and striking out one after another of his opponents.

Young again. How many of us could wish to revisit age 20 or 30, and be granted the wherewithal to do the things we once did, and with as much speed and dexterity?

I mean, I’m a big fan of movies such as, “The Time Machine” and “Back to the Future.” And while in these movies the characters don’t regress in age, they are given the opportunity to visit times and seasons and personalities which have long since passed from the scene.

Speaking of ‘young again,’ something happened today which if you’d warned me in advance, I would have told you was absolutely impossible, (or at least highly improbable).

Pt. 2

Though a thunderstorm was just minutes from bombarding our little community, it was time to take my pet pooch out for her afternoon constitutional; which I proceeded to do.

Did I mention Queenie, a precious little Shih Tzu, came to us after having been discovered by a friend in a thunderstorm?  (Well, she did). Did I mention that, as a result, she has always been super-sensitive to thunder, lightning, and monsoon variety rainstorms? (Well, she has).

I can tell you, today was no exception.

For as I hooked up her collar and leash, and proceeded to walk Queenie down our long driveway, she resisted. Did I say she resisted? (Well, she did). I found myself pulling the 15 pound pooch down Shadow Wood Lane, and pull as I may, she was loathe to cooperate with me. And thus, after I had reached the end of my driveway, and had dragged Queenie a few feet down the road, I picked her up. One way or the other I was determined to ferry her to our neighborhood dog path; a couple hundred feet from my front yard.

Having arrived at our destination, I set my pet pooch in the grass, and she summarily began to make her liquid deposit. And having done her thing, there was no thought in my mind about picking her up again. Given the thunder and lightning respectively rolling and flashing around us, I knew she would gladly precede me back to our little house.

(And precede me, she did).

It may be helpful for you to realize that Queenie was already an old dog when we adopted her; in human terms, perhaps 50 years of age. At this point in time, she is approaching 80, and has definitely ‘seen better days.’ And as a result, you might understand my abject shock when she took off like a bullet!

Pt. 3

I mean, I could barely keep up, walking as fast as my two 29” legs could carry me; while my precious pet pooper was doing all she could to move her four five inch legs in unison; as she pulled me towards what she perceived as the goal line. (It was apparently her turn to drag me down the road)!

Did I say I could barely keep up? (I thought I did). The little Shih Tzu’s stride was nothing less than amazing! The rhythmic motion of her tiny legs all but shouted, “If you want to stay out in this deplorable weather, go for it, but I’m heading for the OK Corral!”

So out of character for a pet pooch living out the last couple of years of her life on this planet.

Speaking of venerable creatures putting on the vestiges of youth, one of my favorite stories involves my own father.

As my wife and I were watching “The Green Mile” five years ago, I received a call from the nursing home informing me that my dad was, at that moment, walking his own green mile.

He’d been found non-responsive in his bathroom by a nurse’s aide, and was, the RN told me, being taken by ambulance to the local hospital. Of course, my wife and I jumped in the car, retrieved my mother from her house, and headed to the ER.

When a nurse stepped through the double doors, I knew. I just knew. Her countenance and her words betrayed her. “Are you the family of Henry McDonald?” To which I responded in the affirmative. Ms. Futch led us to a nearby cubicle, where we waited for the attending physician.

A couple of minutes elapsed, and then what passed for a doctor stepped through the door. Among the dozens of doctors to whom I have ever known or been introduced, she is by far the most memorable of them all; both for her looks and her demeanor.

Pt. 4

“Hello, I’m Dr. Haskins.”

We found ourselves staring in disbelief at what might have easily passed for a debutante. Her hair was the model of an expensive coiffure, she wore dark mascara and bright red lipstick, and instead of the traditional house dress and lab coat, she wore something closer to an evening gown.

And before we could get past our initial shock, she continued.

“I’m sorry. He didn’t make it.”

And with this rather abrupt revelation, my mother was visibly moved, so much so that she involuntarily jerked backward in her seat. And having shared the news, Dr. Haskins turned on her heels and walked out the door.

I was flabbergasted. Talk about rude. This was rudeness incarnate.

Thankfully, Nurse Futch quickly reentered the room, and directed my mother, wife and I towards the place where my father lay. As much as the doctor exuded coolness and impersonality, the nurse displayed warmth and empathy. Wrapping her arms around my mother, she led us to a nearby cubicle.

Speaking of ‘young beyond his years,’ (and the previous action word in the foregoing paragraph) in his mid-60’s my father displayed extraordinary strength, when he assisted me in the erection of a backyard fence. With each length of fence, he stooped to pick up the front and I the back. And as we toted the couple hundred pound panel, and while in my early 40’s, I huffed and puffed, my dad never broke a sweat, or acted the least bit winded.

All this to say that on his last day on this planet, and at the grand old age of 86, he exhibited similar behavior.

Pt. 5

Although my father had been admitted to the hospital the previous December, as the result of a major stroke, and though he’d resided in the hospital for a couple of months, and though he’d subsequently done residential rehabilitation in a nursing home environment, on his last day on earth he’d walked further with his trusty walker than he’d walked during the course of the past quarter year. The length of two hallways.

I’ve never heard it said, but I have come to believe that geriatric rehab will either cure you or kill you. (In the case of my father, it was the latter of the two variables).

Life is momentary. Here today. Gone tomorrow.

And yet…

I love the following passage of scripture which characterizes all that I have previously implied.

“Now then, just as the Lord promised, He has kept me alive for forty-five years since the time He said this to Moses, while Israel moved about in the wilderness.

So here I am today at eighty-five years old! I am still as strong today as I the day Moses sent me out. I'm  just as vigorous to go out to battle now as I was then."  (Joshua 14:10-11)

None of us are guaranteed another moment, but I am thankful for the physical wherewithal God has provided me, and my father before me. While I am just two years sort of 70, I feel as strong or stronger today than half a century hence. Granted, I have worked out all my life, and I have no intention of stopping now. But it is simply refreshing to me that an old man has the capacity to be as young and vigorous as someone half his age.

God grant that each of us fulfill our eternal destinies, and continue to exercise the emotional and physical strength with which He has endowed us.


William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary, Vol. 62. Copyright Pending.

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